


like a lighthouse from the sea

by helloearthlings



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Developing Friendships, Episode 1, Episode Related, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 13:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14238114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: “Big city? Journalist?” Ben’s heart practically soared. To get away from Chet’s Jazz Corner would have been a victory all on its own, but the 2-6 timeslot was a talk show, daily news, real journalism. And with a host who was from somewhere other than King Falls? A big city? He presumably had the kind of experience Ben could only dream of.Ben’s twenty-fifth birthday had just passed, and that was about the time every year since he’d graduated college that he applied and summarily was rejected from Channel 13. It was almost a tradition now.A tradition that he could finally break.“Real journalism,” Ben said a little faintly, not being able to contain himself. “Oh my God, I’ve got to call my mom. She’s gonna be so excited!”





	like a lighthouse from the sea

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I am Still Here and Still Hurting, and right now I'm choosing to work through the pain with some solid Best Friends Forever. I can't believe Sammy and Ben invented being platonically in love with your best friend. Icons only.
> 
> Anyway, this is basically the lead-up to the first episode because everything was simpler back then and Ben was a beautiful and innocent duckling. He's still a duckling now, but he had extremely duckling-like tendencies to begin with. Hope you enjoy!

Ben was lining up a ‘Billie Holiday: One Damn Foxy Lady’ tribute night, as per Chet’s leering instructions, when he got the email.

He had taken a short break to try to pass a level of Candy Crush because anything was more interesting than setting up yet another tribute night for Chet. The tributes were always for some incredibly sexy older blues singer that Chet would eventually describe as probably still foxy in her grave and get very close to describing necrophilia-related acts of what he would do to her. Ben’s nights were generally a mixture of light bullying and misogynistic comments, but the necrophilia really was the tree topper on this mess of a show that he produced.

That was when he saw the email. He hadn’t thought anything of it when he clicked on it – he didn’t recognize stevens612 @gmail.com but if even if it was spam, it would still distract him from the looming task of dealing with Chet when the show started in half an hour.

He figured that the email would be nothing more than two clicks – one to see it, one to delete it.

_Hey Ben,_

_My name’s Sammy Stevens, I’m the new host on King Falls AM during the 2-6 AM time slot. I was hired a couple of weeks ago, but Merv just let me know that he’d lined you up to be my producer._

_I’m sure you already know that my first day is May 1 st, but I just wanted to let you know that April 30th is the day I’m driving up to King Falls for the first time as well, so I’ll be headed up to the studio immediately after moving into my new place. Otherwise I would’ve definitely contacted you sooner to try and meet up beforehand. _

_But if you need any help setting up before the show starts, let me know and I’ll try my best to be early! Punctuality’s not one of my strong suits and neither is email communication for that matter, but hopefully we can have some time to talk before the show starts._

_Excited to work with you!_

_Sammy_

Ben’s heart nearly dropped to the floor.

Billie Holiday entirely forgotten, he scrambled to his feet, not even bothering to close the music playing on his laptop as he burst out from his office – well, broom cupboard – and barged into Chet’s.

Chet, who was lounging on his leopard print sofa, looked up at him with mild interest, possibly because Ben looked half-deranged. But he couldn’t help it. His heart was pounding so loudly it was reverberating in his head, his palms were sweaty, his body was absolutely tremoring in excitement.

“What’s the matter, Benny-Cat?” Chet drawled with his trademark horrendous nickname for Ben. Honestly, Ben hated being called Benny, it made him feel like he was about six years old, but he’d consider it a victory if Chet would just knock the _cat_ off of his name.

“I just got an email,” Ben tried to explain, short of breath, waving his phone in Chet’s general direction. “It’s – it’s from a new host? He says I’m going to be producing his show?”

“Oh, right,” Chet blinked, unfazed. Ben gaped at him.

“How the hell did you know about this and I didn’t?” Ben’s voice most decidedly did not go up several octaves as he asked the question.

“Merv didn’t tell you?” Chet rose to his feet with that practiced elegance of his that might have been attractive on someone twenty years younger, but on Chet it just looked vaguely predatory. “Some big city radio journalist cat is taking over Katie’s timeslot. She’s moving to the evening show now that Esther’s hung up her knitting needles.”

“Big city? Journalist?” Ben’s heart practically soared. To get away from Chet’s Jazz Corner would have been a victory all on its own, but the 2-6 timeslot was a talk show, daily news, _real_ journalism. And with a host who was from somewhere other than King Falls? A big city? He presumably had the kind of experience Ben could only dream of.

Sweet, beautiful relief flooded Ben’s system. He’d been stewing all this week about applying to Channel 13 for a fourth time – he hated them with all his might, but there was only so much of Chet that one could handle.

Ben’s twenty-fifth birthday had just passed, and that was about the time every year since he’d graduated college that he applied and was summarily rejected from Channel 13. It was almost a tradition now.

A tradition that he could _finally_ break.

A huge smile spread across Ben’s face. “And – and I’m _producing_ it? Merv chose _me_ to produce this show?”

“Obviously,” Chet said with a roll of his eyes as he checked his hair in the mirror. Why he needed to check his hair for a radio show was beyond Ben. “You can be a little less thrilled about getting away from me, Benny-Cat. You’re _almost_ hurting my feelings.”

Because Ben was a people-pleaser, he immediately began to launch into a slew of apologies that Chet cut off immediately with a bark of laughter. “Honestly, kid, you should’ve seen your face. I’m sure we’ll both get along better when I don’t have to listen to you pretend to care about jazz anymore.”

“Real journalism,” Ben said a little faintly, not being able to contain himself. “Oh my God, I’ve got to call my mom. She’s gonna be so excited!”

“You’re still my producer for another week!” Chet called after Ben as Ben scrambled back into his broom closet – well, office – to make a phone call.

He managed to type out an email to Sammy Stevens before he had to return to the Billie Holiday remixes, and hoped that he didn’t sound too incoherently excited. He had to make a good first impression after all.

He hoped Sammy Stevens wouldn’t be too intimidating. He seemed like a pretty decent guy if Ben were the type to judge people based on their emails, but Ben had also spent the last three years working with Chet Sebastian, so he felt justified in wariness.

_Hey Sammy!_

_Super great to hear from you! I’m incredibly hype to work with you, I’m sure it’ll be great. No problem on not getting here until May, it’ll give me time to set up guests and segments before you arrive!_

_The drive up the mountains to King Falls is beautiful, I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself. Good luck moving in! Looking forward to meeting you in May!_

_Ben Arnold_

* * *

Ben wasn’t sure what he was expecting from Sammy Stevens, but he figured any big city radio type who decided to come to King Falls of all places was probably aging out of young, hip industry, maybe somewhere in his mid to late forties, affable and friendly but bad at technology and therefore in need of a good producer.

But the real Sammy Stevens…actually seemed pretty cool.

First off, he looked much closer to Ben’s age than forty, though Ben couldn’t pinpoint exactly what his age was. The waves of long brown hair that framed his chin suggested that he was younger, but there were a few premature lines around his eyes. But he was wearing a beat-up bomber jacket, his jeans had one artful rip, and one of the first things he did after shaking Ben’s hand was sweep his hair back into a little ponytail.

He was also very, very tall.

Ben often felt victimized by the existence of tall people. 

Though Ben definitely hadn’t imagined him like this, Sammy was certainly everything Ben could imagine that a terrifyingly experienced radio personality would be. He tried to swallow his nerves and not show how desperately he wanted to impress this guy.

“Hey, Ben,” Sammy smiled at him, rolling up the sleeves of his jacket. He had dimples. Well, even if he did end up being Chet 2.0 and disgustingly hitting on every woman who called in, he’d probably get less embarrassing responses. “Sorry, I meant to be much earlier than ten minutes, but I should just be glad I’m not late. Great to meet you, man.”

“Yeah, you too,” Ben said, trying his best not to stammer. “I’ve got a great show planned out for your first night, but if you wanna check out your office before we head into the studio –”

The radio station isn’t huge, but it had room enough so that most shows got their own office, no matter how small, though none was quite as small as Ben’s broom cupboard. Still, up until now it had been either that or share with Chet, and Chet’s office was a black hole from which nothing ever escaped, especially ten-year-old used condoms that somehow ended up in Ben’s belongings.

Sammy’s office is just a desk and two chairs under a white board – it used to be Esther’s, so it smells a little like yarn and cottage cheese – but Ben tried to spruce the place up a little by cleaning the floors and writing **THE SAMMY STEVENS SHOW** on the whiteboard in celebration of the first night.

“The Sammy Stevens show?” Sammy said, his eyebrows raised a little as he peered into the office. He walked in a moment later to swing his backpack onto the table.  “Is that the official title?”

“Well, we’re really excited to have you here,” Ben said diplomatically, making it sound like a group decision even though Merv hadn’t been sighted in perhaps generations, let alone made any decisions. Except, apparently, hiring Sammy. “It’s not every day that a big city radio personality decides to come to King Falls. Seemed only right to name the show after you.”

Sammy snorted under his breath, and Ben was worried that he somehow offended him until Sammy said “Well, it’s your show, too – how about the Sammy and Ben show?”

“Oh,” Ben said, feeling himself blush under the attention. “I’m not – I mean, I’m just the producer, man, I’m not –”

“If you say that the producer isn’t important, I’m gonna have to kill you and that would make a very bad first impression,” Sammy laughed at him, but even the insinuation is enough to ruffle Ben’s feathers.

“No, of course not!” Ben said firmly. “Producing is an essential part of any show – maybe _the_ most essential, no offense or anything – but I don’t want any glory for it or anything. I want to be a great journalist someday – you know, like Cronkite or Brokaw – and I don’t want to ruin my journalistic integrity by appearing…I don’t know, self-centered.”

Sammy was still laughing at him, but it doesn’t seem like a mean laugh. Ben’s gotten pretty used to mean laughs over his life, and Sammy didn’t have one of those. It sounded more affectionate than anything.

“Hey, you don’t have to convince me,” Sammy put his hands up in mock-defense. “I know how important producers are, and as a long-time radio host, we can be pretty self-centered. But dude, seriously, you should host with me.”

“I – what?” Ben blinked, not sure he heard Sammy right. Chet generally did not allow Ben to so much as utter a syllable on his show, worried that Ben would mess with his sex appeal. “I – host?”

“Yeah, co-host,” Sammy nodded as if this were something that happened every day, that someone wanted Ben to talk for more than a few seconds at a time and be witty and entertaining and trust him with something like a full radio show. “I promise, it’ll be fun. For you as well as me – Hosting alone can get boring quickly. It’s more fun to have someone to bounce off.”

“…I don’t know,” Ben said, back to trying to puzzle Sammy out, but less his age or his cool-factor and more his character and personality and if he was actually serious. “I’ve never really…”

“Well, just try it out!” Sammy said, gesturing out the office door and toward the studio where Chet was droning on about Louis Armstrong for the sixth time that month. “I promise that if you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again.”

Sammy grinned widely over at him, waiting for an answer. Whatever else Sammy Stevens was, there was definitely something inherently charming about him. He’d make a good host if he could get the listeners to feel as appreciated and liked as Ben was feeling right now.

 “Oh, alright,” Ben muttered under his breath and Sammy reached over to clap him on the back. “Let me run to my office to get my laptop before Chet’s done –”

 “Dude, I don’t know if you realize, but this is a broom closet,” Sammy said from behind him as Ben ducked into his office to grab his bag, trying desperately not to blush.

“It is not!” Ben said as he came back into the hallway, taking care to shut the door without letting Sammy see any more inside than he already had, because Ben’s office was _not_ a broom closet, it was just…very small. So small that Ben often called it a broom closet in his mind.

“I know I’m a little new here, but I feel like I have the authority to make a new rule that _my_ office is going to be _our_ office,” Sammy said with a quirk of his eyebrow and again, Ben found himself muttering his consent because apparently today was Ben Tries and Fails to Impress New Host Day.

Ben didn’t exactly feel cool in Sammy’s eyes, but he certainly did feel appreciated. That was probably more important.

They’ve got another couple of minutes while Chet is still in the studio, and Ben was about to make awkward conversation about Sammy’s drive up to King Falls or his new apartment when Sammy turned to him and asked “So have you lived here all of your life?”

“Yeah, yeah, forever,” Ben said, glad that Sammy started the conversation and glad that it was about King Falls, because Ben could actually talk about King Falls with some sort of charisma and intelligence. “It’s the best town in the world.”

Sammy smiled, but it wasn’t his cheery grin from before, there’s something else about it that Ben can’t put his finger on. He just knows it’s different. “It looked pretty nice from the little bit of it I saw.”

“So you’ve never been here before?” Ben asked, curious. King Falls saw plenty of tourists, but not a lot of newcomers in terms of permanent residents. They were interested in seeing the spooky and the supernatural, but not in sticking around for a life of it.

“No,” Sammy said, “but Merv reached out to me about this job, and I was looking for a change, so…here I am.”

“You’ll love it,” Ben promised him. “Greatest town, greatest people. I can show you around anytime.”

“I’d really like that,” Sammy said, and they didn’t feel like empty words that coworkers exchanged. It was very odd.

Ben was suddenly very glad that Sammy hadn’t been a forty-something old-timer looking to settle down in a small town, because right now it almost felt like they were on their way to becoming friends.

Ben knew for sure that they were on their way to being friends after the horrible debacle with Tim Jensen’s abduction live on the radio. During one of their final breaks of the night, Sammy turned to him with a look of utmost importance on his face.

“Troy said that Tim has a family in town, right?” Sammy said, his voice hushed and eyebrows creased together.

“Yeah,” Ben said, stomaching churning at even the thought of what they might be going through right now. “Mary’s his wife and he’s got two young kids.”

“Maybe we should stop by,” Sammy said, a little tentativeness in his voice. “Sometime later today, just to – to show her some support and see if there’s anything we can do to help. Two kids – that has to be –”

“Definitely,” Ben said, all of his stereotypes about the self-centered, oblivious, Cool Factor Above All Else nature of big city types and radio personalities flying out the window. Sammy really seemed to be conscious of the world around him, his interactions with others, his light but meaningful words.

Maybe Sammy wasn’t actually very cool, but he was definitely the kind of person that Ben could see himself hanging out with outside of their obligatory four hours together.

The four hours where Ben was almost sure he was going to be permanently co-hosting, for when he got finished wiping down the board and resetting it for the morning crew and returned to his office, there was a new message on the whiteboard.

 **THE SAMMY AND BEN SHOW** had been scrawled in almost unreadable writing, and even though the messiness bothered Ben, he definitely didn’t want to take it down.

Tonight felt like the beginning of something important – something monumental – that didn’t have anything to do with Ben’s career in journalism.


End file.
